


The Newsboy Blues

by Mageia_D



Category: Happy Tree Friends
Genre: Blood and Gore, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Secret Identity, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25828594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mageia_D/pseuds/Mageia_D
Summary: Splendid, using his secret identity, works as a reporter for the local newspaper in his downtime. Things get a little complicated, however, when he starts dating an editor on the paper and must keep his superhero status a secret.
Relationships: Sniffles/Splendid
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	The Newsboy Blues

Splendid took a deep breath of the fresh summer air and allowed a small smile to creep across his face. Typically he’d plan to spend a clear, sunny day like today on his patio, alone in his acorn-shaped fortress, reading and knitting the day away. Today, however, he had something more important to attend to. In a little pile on his desk nestled in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, there were notes for a story he had gathered the previous night. He was going into the Happy Tree Press Office to write them into an article.

He was a little lost in his own thoughts and his view of the city from the living room window when his watch suddenly beeped at him. He jumped a little, startled by the sound, only to be startled once again upon seeing that the time was nearly 7:30am. If he didn’t hurry, he’d be late.

He nearly forgot the tie, glasses, and fedora that made up his civilian disguise in his rush to be ready to leave the fortress. After throwing them on, he dashed into the kitchen to grab the mug of coffee he had sitting out on the counter. Upon realizing it had gone cold, he used his laser vision to try and heat it back up. This, of course, resulted in the mug melting and slightly burning his hand under the extreme heat. Oh well.

With no time to brew another mug, he threw it into the trash bin (which had become a congregation point for several melted coffee-stained mugs) and headed out of his fortress.

On most days, he was Splendid, world-renowned superhero and defender of all those weak and vulnerable; today, though, he would be Samuel, simple reporter for the small town’s newspaper. He could never wait to be ordinary.

There was a sort of thrill about walking through the street and having none of his fellow Tree Friends even look at him. If he wasn’t wearing his disguise, there would no doubt be fans stopping him every few blocks, asking him to sign this or that, take a photo, perhaps gush about how much his service meant to them. Underneath these prescription glasses, he was free, and the only side effect was a headache.

Something did slow him down on his way to the office, though. Police cars were parked on the street corner and a small crowd had gathered not far from them. Splendid slowed his pace, but only a little, using his x-ray vision to see through the crowd.

Behind the wall of bodies was a skeleton sprawled out on the street, its skull detached from whoever this used to be. Blood soaked into the pavement all around it and chunks of flesh still clung to the bones, though not very much of it.

Splendid wrinkled his nose and blinked, speeding back up again to pass the scene. Gristly deaths such as those were common in Happy Tree and the victims always came back the next day as healthy as ever, but that didn’t make him any less squeamish.

The news office was a small, but important-looking building, with a set of glass doors plastered with clippings and photos to push through. The place was kept tidy inside and out, with the exception of some individual desks. When Splendid arrived, the clock hanging in the small hallway that led to the rest of the building read 8:15am. He allowed himself some self-congratulations for being perfectly on time.

He passed the desks of other reporters already taking their seats and reviewing the scribbles in their notepads on his way to his own, situated near a window all the way in the back. It was a quiet little space he prided on having mostly to himself. In fact, the only people who came to chat were the editors. He considered it an undercover superhero’s dream.

He sat down and got straight to work, typing away at a clunky and rather outdated computer to compose another article for the Happy Tree Tribune. At first, he had laser focus. After taking a quick glance around to make sure nobody was looking, he moved his fingers across the keyboard at an incredible pace, typing out sentences in the blink of an eye. Super speed certainly had its practical applications.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before a wave of drowsiness hit him like a ton of bricks. Only an hour in, and he was feeling that missing mug of coffee. Seeing his hands slow down was discouraging, even though he was likely still typing quickly for the average person. He did his best to keep his eyes on the screen and the words flowing regardless, determined to get this story to the paper.

He was making such an effort, in fact, that he didn’t notice that somebody had come to his desk until they tapped his shoulder. He gave a startled jump and ripped his gaze away from his work.

He was greeted by soft brown eyes, magnified by a set of thick glasses. The top editor for the paper, Sniffles, stood by Splendid’s desk, balancing a cardboard cup holder containing two cups of coffee in one hand and a thick stack of papers haphazardly held together by an assortment of colorful paperclips in the other. He looked as he always did: ever so slightly messy, but thoughtful and welcoming all the same. Today, he wore a simple dark blue button-up tucked into some dress pants that sat high on his waist.

Sniffles chuckled. “You look a little sleepy, Sam.”

“Ah, well…” Splendid began, rubbing an eye under his glasses. “I knocked my coffee off the counter this morning, didn’t have time to make another mug.”

“Do you want this extra cup? The order was supposed to be for Mole and I, but he… had an accident on the way here.”

Ah. So that must have been the unpleasant scene Splendid passed on the way in.

“Are you sure?”

“It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.” Sniffles held the cup holder out to Splendid with a gentle smile that, frankly lit up his face and most of the room. How could Splendid say no?

He gave Sniffles his thanks as he took the cup marked with Mole’s name and took a sip. It was entirely too sweet, but still warm and much, much better than nothing.

“Oh! I have that article from the other day…”

Sniffles set the cupholder on a free space on the desk and flipped around the stack of papers for a moment. Splendid watched almost anxiously as he was handed a stapled-together document dotted with red text.

“Good story, but you… spelled ‘restaurant’ seven different ways. All incorrectly.”

Splendid scoffed as he skimmed the pages. “Spelling shpelling, we’ve got stories to tell! Who cares if people are eating at…” He squinted at his own writing for a moment.

“... Restrants.”

To Splendid’s delight, the joke got a small laugh out of Sniffles. It was light, came easy, and much like the massive cinnamon rolls at Mime’s music-themed diner, sent his heart rate through the roof. And with only half the calories!

“It’ll be ready to publish today, I just thought you’d like to see the revisions,” Sniffles grinned.

“Y-yeah, thanks…”

And with that and a small wave, Sniffles was gone as quickly and as quietly as he had come, disappearing into the editor’s office near the front.

Splendid watched him go, suppressing a small sigh. Sniffles was… smart. Very smart. Rumor had it that he had three separate PhDs, all earned from world-class universities in record time. He worked in the hospital as the town’s youngest doctor for a short time before trading in his lab coat for crumpled-up notebook paper and undercover superheroes who didn’t know how to spell “restaurant” with the newspaper.

Splendid had always wanted to know if those rumors were true. He found himself wanting to know a lot about Sniffles, as a matter of fact. He never talked about himself much, always wrapped up in work or study. It was a shame for someone who seemed so… interesting.

But, of course, there was one problem.

Sniffles was a Splendid fanboy. He had pins, posters, comics, anything one could think of. No matter how cute, no matter how fascinating, seeing him outside of work was out of the question. What if he found out “Samuel”’s dirty little secret? No, it wasn’t worth it.

He sipped his achingly sweet coffee. Not worth it at all.

Nope, definitely not worth it.

Not worth it in the slightest.

…

Splendid sat his coffee cup down and stared hard at the document he was typing up.

Focus was going to be much harder to come by now.

~*~

Nervous blue feet paced pristine white carpets as Splendid waited for his date to come down the stairs. He wasn’t wearing his disguise, having traded the glasses and tie for a nice dress jacket and a single rose held behind his back. His date’s house was well-decorated and impossibly clean, with a wide menagerie of houseplants lining the room. He felt he’d been here many, many times, almost as though it might as well have been a second home. Any other time, the sight of these walls might have been comforting, but their reservation was for twenty minutes from then. If they didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t make it.

Finally, soft, quick footsteps descended the stairs, and Splendid’s date stood in front of him, breathlessly apologizing for the holdup.

He looked stunning. He wore a lavender vest over a simple white dress shirt, with the fur on his head combed to erase its usual gentle messiness. A blush rose in Splendid’s cheeks, but he didn’t let it chase his cool, smooth exterior.

“Don’t apologize. Perfection takes time,” Splendid purred. He leaned down to his date’s height and held the rose out to him. “Shall we?”

It was the recipient’s turn to blush now. “I-I suppose we shall…”

A ginger hand reached out to take the rose, only to jerk back and drop it. A small bead of blood was now slowly forming on one of his fingers, much to Splendid’s dismay.

“That damned florist left a thorn!” he scoffed, picking the rose up from the floor. “I ought to-”

He cut off when his date simply laughed and took his hand. “It’s just a little poke, I’ll be fine.”

Splendid’s anger melted in an instant and his smile returned to his face. He laced his fingers in with Sniffles’ and led him out the door.

Just then, Splendid blinked awake. He had a clump of his blanket held in one hand, the same hand he dreamed Sniffles had taken.

He slowly sat up, confused. Moonlight drifted lazily through the window to the left of his bed, bathing his room in a soft, silvery-blue light. The dream had felt wonderfully real. So real, in fact, that he still found himself ready to sweep the anteater off his feet…

“Well,” Splendid thought, letting go of the blanket, “that tears it.” Sniffles was in his dreams now, holding his hand and accepting his roses, no matter how thorny. There could only be one solution.

With a newfound energy, Splendid hopped out of bed and rushed to his laptop, determined to find the best place in town to take a nerd on a date.


End file.
